Another One Bites the Dust
Chapter One
You are what you drive. My personal ride is a fully reconditioned
1965 Corvette Sting Ray 327 convertible, inherited from my Granny
May after Pops Lew passed away. He taught me everything I know about
fast, powerful cars. How to drive them, keep them running, love them
with unrelenting passion.
So maybe it was understandable that, despite wearing a helmet that
currently hid my entire face from view, if a pit had suddenly yawned
open before me, I would've happily leaped into it and hurtled to my
untimely death rather than spent another second with my ass pinned
to the seat of a 1993 moped.
Sometimes my job just sucks.
Nobody would've agreed with me less than my mo-buddy, Cole Bemont,
who chugged along the Bay Trail beside me at a stately rate of
speed, humming a little ditty into his helmet mike as he avoided
crashing into yet another stray Texan. On this mild, sunny afternoon
it seemed like half of Corpus Christi had read our adventure-seeking
minds and said, "Cool. Let's go get in their way."
Skaters, bikers, and fishermen vied for space along the wide stretch
of asphalt we ... read full excerpt from: Another One Bites the Dust (Jaz Parks #2) ebook
